A Divine Birthday
by Zia Montrose
Summary: Sirius and Lily throw a surprise birthday party for James in the old Divination Tower. Luring him there takes longer than anticipated.


Lily stood near the top of the rope ladder, peering through the trapdoor that was propped open above her head. It was the only way to get a good look at the old Divination classroom. Strings of crystals and what appeared to be bird entrails hung down from the roof beams, relics from the last time Divination had been taught at Hogwarts.

"If dust makes for a good party, this is the place." Lily nodded for effect.

"Was hoping you'd know a few good household spells," Sirius replied from the bottom of the ladder with an unmistakeable grin in his voice.

"What do I look like, your house-elf?" Lily narrowed her eyes.

"Good point. I don't suppose the future Mrs. Potter will be doing all the cleaning herself."

She suppressed the urge to hiss like a cat. Sirius had become fond of apron strings jokes now that she and James had been going out for several months.

"Black, unless you want me to aim an entire dervish of this in your direction—" She whirled a finger toward the dusty interior.

Sirius responded with silence, but savoured the grin.

"There's only one problem," Lily began logically, peering back in. "Surely no one would be off their trolley enough to come up here on a Monday night—except _Peeves._ How d'you suppose we keep it a secret from _him_? We'd be in a lot of trouble if he ratted us out."

"Easy. We create a distraction," Sirius responded casually, hands tucked in the pockets of his denims.

"Like what?"

"Well, we'll just…" his chin tilted upwards in reflection "…let him overhear us talking about how Madam Pince thinks she's finally managed to ban him from the library once and for all. I'm sure Peeves will want to set the record straight." Lily raised a brow while inwardly marvelling at how easily Sirius and the other three came up with these schemes.

"Anyway, leave Peeves to me. Your job is to get Potter here in time for the party Monday night."

Lily had only needed to tell James a little white lie—that she'd swapped their usual night of rounds with the Ravenclaw prefects—in order to get him moving in the direction of the surprise party she and Sirius had planned. As usual, James had bounded down the stairs from the boys' dormitory five minutes late, owing to Quidditch practice. With his hair still mussed and damp from showering, and wearing his favourite Falmouth Falcons Quidditch jumper, he'd skidded to a halt in front of the grandfather clock in the common room, their usual meeting spot.

James had taken Ancient Runes in the North Tower since third year, but Lily had been unfamiliar with that section of castle until her recent scouting mission with Sirius. The Ravenclaws usually patrolled there. Fortunately, James hadn't questioned her particular claim that Dumbledore had asked them to check the old unused Divination classroom. "He suspects Peeves is up to something," she'd informed him with a straight face.

The abundance of stairs allowed time for conversation.

"So why don't they teach Divination anymore?" Lily inquired, as their feet scuffed up the stones in tandem. She enjoyed being able to ask James these sorts of questions, although tonight she noted it slowed their pace to a stroll.

"They don't have a Seer, from what I understand. Besides, everyone knows it's a ropey subject at best."

"There isn't a single Seer in all the Wizarding world?"

James shook his head. "Not one who wants to teach at Hogwarts, anyway. Mind, there are really only two families with a history of producing Seers… and both seem to be having a—er—drought in the dynasty."

She tried to ignore the fact that he'd already begun looking over at her between sentences with more than conversational interest now that they'd entered a deserted section of the castle, as evidenced by the rising blush in his cheeks. And she tried equally hard to ignore the sight of his freshly washed hair, the glint of the torch light in his glasses frames and… Was it possible to smell like Quidditch?

"What do they teach you in Divination? I mean, the only thing I know about it is what I've seen in the back of _Witch Weekly_ and everyone knows that's a load of tosh."

James snuffed a laugh. Lily found herself appreciating, not for the first time, the way his eyes danced behind his glasses and the way his frames perched on his long, thin nose.

"Well, there're all sorts of techniques—supposedly. Reading tea leaves, crystal balls, palmistry… Most of the time, it's just a quick way to make a Galleon in some back alley. There are very few _real_ Seers out there." An impish crease blossomed at one side of his lips and he veered closer until his shoulder brushed hers. His hand sought hers. "Here, let me see your palm. I'll tell you what you'll be doing later tonight."

"Let me guess—" she said dryly.

His eyes twinkled as he traced a line between her thumb and forefinger in a manner that in no way resembled fortune telling, but did produce a flurry of pleasant sensations. That's when Lily reminded herself that she was supposed to be luring him to the old Divination classroom, not lazily meandering on rounds. With twitching lips, she tugged her hand back and broke into step again.

"We're supposed to be checking the North Tower, remember, numpty?"

With his long legs, James easily caught stride with her again. "Can't imagine what Peeves can be doing up there," he grumbled. "There's no one to even pelt things at. It's deserted."

"You'll have to take your complaint to Dumbledore." She peered into a nearby classroom to keep up the illusion of being on rounds.

"At least _he_ has a revolving staircase," James muttered as they started up yet another flight.

Lily smirked and opened her mouth to reply that Gryffindor's star Chaser could hardly be too infirm to manage a few extra stairs. That's when James unexpectedly caught her by the arm before she reached the top step.

She turned, wholly expecting another amorous advance, but instead he raised his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture and pointed to a portrait on the landing ahead in which a little armour-clad knight reclined, presumably sleeping, against the leg of his speckled pony. Lily didn't remember seeing the pair of them the other day.

She glanced questioningly at James, who made a circular gesture around his ear with his index finger. "Gone round the twist," he whispered with a twinkle in his eye. "Trust me. Let's not wake them up."

He seemed to find the subject of the knight's mental health entirely too amusing; Lily simply took his word for it and softened her footsteps as she passed. For the next few moments, she found herself absorbed in studying the tapestries, one of which seemed to depict an early Quidditch match over the moors. "That's Queerditch Marsh, where the first match was played," James broke in. "See, there are no Bludgers yet. No Snitch, either." Indeed, the only ball moving through the needlework scene was a Quaffle, and suspended baskets took the place of modern hoops.

Another tapestry depicted an alchemist's laboratory— "That's the search for quintessence."—and a third showed a castle being built by stonemasons. "Hogwarts," he said simply.

As accustomed as she'd grown to the Wizarding world, she couldn't imagine having grown up in it as James had, steeped in all its lore. She glanced up and caught him looking at her again.

"Have you ever been in the Room of Runes?" he asked in a scholarly tone, indicating a doorway up ahead on the right with a tip of his head. Lily supposed he inherited his intellectual side from his mother, a Ravenclaw. Whenever it appeared, she found herself admiring it.

He seemed to notice her studying him longer than the simple question required and raised a brow in enquiry.

"No, I haven't," she answered belatedly.

"Care to check it out?"

"What's in there?"

"Tons of fascinating stuff… Professor Babble's translating a parchment for a very complex Contentment Potion right now, there are any number of reliquary, there's an old Healer's medallion that was donated by my great-grandfather that preserves some of the old spells… there's even an antique brooch with a charm inscribed on the back for keeping hair silky. Guess whoever invented that one didn't want everyone else finding out," he added with a smirk.

"All right," Lily conceded, suddenly feeling like it would be rude to even suggest they wait until the way back down, in light of James's enthusiasm. And she hardly minded seeing this side of him. But Merlin, would they ever reach the Divination Tower at this rate?

James swiftly covered the few steps to the door and grabbed the handle. The latch rattled in vain. "Damn. I suppose that stuff _is_ rather valuable," he muttered. With a frown, he twisted back around.

"You're not even going to try getting in?" Lily asked incredulously. In her experience, James bowed to few obstacles.

He shook his head. "_Alohomora_ won't work. If it's worth locking, it's worth doing properly. We could be here all night trying to figure the password out." A fleeting look flashed through his eyes before he fell into step with Lily again.

Finally, after walking past several large bronzed cauldrons on display, they left the tower base and began climbing the steep spiral staircase of the upper tower. Their footsteps echoed off the stones as they passed through patterns of overlapping torchlight and shadow, the flames guttering in their wake. At one spot, where the stairwell narrowed, Lily felt James's fingertips brush hers, but the moment had passed before she realized he'd been trying to take her hand.

He paused to look out the next window. Lily glanced out though the mullions only long enough to see that darkness had enveloped the grounds and the lace of treetops distinguished itself from the sky only by shades of grey, before trudging ahead, hoping James would follow.

But he didn't.

"Hey, Evans?" His cautious tone caught her attention, slowing her in her tracks. "I was hoping you wouldn't want to take rounds so seriously tonight, seeing as it _is_ my birthday. If you must know, that's the whole reason I agreed to the swap."

Lily spun around to face him. At first his eyes were still trained out the window, but in a breath he turned and met hers. He flashed her a poignant look.

Lily's mouth fell open to respond before she drudged up a suitable reply. To deliver it, she pattered a few stairs down until she was standing on the one directly above James. A blush welled up in her cheeks. "You do realize I haven't forgotten your birthday, James," she said tenderly. "I was hoping we could finish rounds and _then _celebrate."

His brow furrowed. "But as soon as I get back to Gryffindor, my mates are going to want to celebrate. I noticed they weren't around while I was changing to meet you. Pretty sure they're up to something." He paused. "That's why I was hoping to spend the time with you now."

Lily felt charmed to the roots of her hair by the admission. It was all she could do to hold back the secret of the surprise party that lay in store. She dropped her voice to a suggestive murmur—"I'll make sure to detain you before we get back, then" —and stooped to kiss him. The last thing she registered was his hazel eyes before their lips met. The stairs had the advantage of placing her just slightly higher than James, giving her the perfect angle to riffle his hair.

He was grinning by the time she straightened back up. "So you're not expecting to spend the entire night tracking Peeves and other miscreants?"

Lily gave a teasing little smirk. "I'm in the _company_ of a miscreant, James." Then she promptly pivoted and pattered back up the stairs.

He followed with more spring in his step.

She flashed a cheeky look over her shoulder to add, "Besides, it was my understanding that _palmistry_ took place on the top floor."

His brows shot up at the innuendo. "Hardly; I've been up there before. It's terribly dusty." She heard him take the next two steps as one.

They both increased their pace until they reached, slightly out of breath, the uppermost landing, where only a trapdoor in the ceiling overhead allowed further passage.

"Here we are," Lily chimed innocently and the magical rope ladder fell to her feet, but that presented her with a quandary she hadn't anticipated. Surely James would offer for her to go first—and if she did go first, then the din of the party would leak out as soon as she cracked the trapdoor, ruining the surprise.

No, better to send James up first. And better to do it before he noticed her hesitation. "You have more experience with Peeves, Potter. I think _you_ should go first." She glanced up at the trapdoor.

But James neither objected nor moved toward the ladder. Instead, he shuffled closer to Lily, until their jumpers touched.

Indeed it _was_ possible to smell like Quidditch. A combination of Quaffle leather, jumper wool, broomstick polish, and the essence of wind assaulted her nostrils, and Lily forgot to object to the delay.

"Right, well, I thought you might want to kiss me again in case I perish up there," he said mock-gravely. Then he leaned closer and browsed his lips along her cheek, grazing them slowly toward her ear, his breath fluttering against her earlobe until all sense seemed to fall out along with it. Really, she couldn't concentrate on anything at all except kissing him good and properly.

Suddenly, the trap door cracked open and Sirius's head thrust out the hole. Lying prone, he clutched the Marauder's Map in one hand. Peter and Kingsley appeared over his shoulder in the background. Knowing amusement lit Sirius's face before it split into a full grin. "Oi, get your arses up here already! I don't know what took you two so long, but we've got a birthday to celebrate!"

James's face dawned in comprehension, his jaw dropping before he broke into a broad grin. A second later, he hastened up the ladder to Sirius's welcoming clap on the shoulder. Lily followed, pausing at the top of the ladder and glancing around to take in the scene. Sirius had pulled it off beautifully.

A roaring fire crackled in the old fireplace, butterbeer floated around the room within easy reach, and an assortment of puddings from the kitchens had been set out on a small table.

As for the decorating, Sirius had left the strange crystals and bird entrails hanging from the ceiling just as they'd been found. Only now, free of dust, they'd taken on the quality of bizarre sculptures, reflecting the torch light in an eerily cool way. The raven feathers shimmered like ink while the crystals refracted the light. A tune by _Fiendfyre _pulsed through the room and a large banner had been placed across the windows that read, "Happy Birthday, James!" Lily suspected Remus's handiwork.

A crush of partygoers had already enveloped their guest of honour as Sirius gave Lily a hand up the final step. He wore a roguish grin, a glint in his eye, and he dropped his voice as he pulled her up with a flourish. "Now I see what you two get up to on rounds every Thursday. No wonder James hides the Map."

She responded with an elbow and an evasive roll of her eyes, though he'd hit the truth on the nose. Meandering past him, she nicked a butterbeer out of the air and pulled the cork. "You can simply thank me for getting him here, Black."

"And you can thank me for the decorating," he countered, glancing around and looking rather pleased with himself.

Lily glanced up at a raven feather suspended above her head. "You didn't change much," she challenged, taking a swig of butterbeer.

Sirius spluttered. "_Pleeease, Evans. _Tell me you noticed my household spells!"

Lily smirked wickedly. "Apron strings look good on you, Sirius." Then she spun on her heel and went to rejoin James with a merry smile.

A/N: This story was written for a 2011 Secret Santa Fic Exchange on Live Journal. My recipient, first_breaths, requested a surprise party for James, so credit for the premise goes to her. Sirius's tendency toward apron strings jokes was inspired by Shimotsuki's wonderful story _Seeds of Suspicion_.


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